This Was a Man Read online

  “And there’s another thing we ought to discuss now you have so much more time on your hands,” said Karin as she placed a plate of stew on the table in front of him.

  “You’re quite right, my darling,” said Giles, picking up his knife and fork. “But don’t let’s just talk about it this time, let’s do something.”

  * * *

  Lord Goodman heaved himself up from behind his desk as his secretary entered the office accompanied by a prospective client.

  “What a pleasure to meet you at last, Mrs. Grant,” the distinguished lawyer said as they shook hands. “Do have a seat,” he added, ushering her to a comfortable chair.

  “Is it correct that you were the prime minister’s lawyer?” asked Ellie May, once she was seated.

  “Yes, I was,” said Goodman. “I now only serve Mr. Wilson in a private capacity.”

  “And have you found time to read the letter and enclosures I sent you recently?” Ellie May asked, well aware that small talk would be charged at the same rate as legal opinion.

  “Every word,” said Goodman, tapping a file on the table in front of him. “I only wish your husband had sought my advice at the time of this unfortunate incident. Had he done so, I would have recommended that he call the lady’s bluff.”

  “There would be far less need for lawyers, Lord Goodman, if we were all blessed with hindsight. But despite that, is it your opinion that Lady Virginia has a case to answer?”

  “Most emphatically she does, madam. That is, assuming Mr. and Mrs. Morton will agree to sign an affidavit confirming that the Hon. Freddie Fenwick is their offspring, and that Lady Virginia was aware of that at the time of the child’s birth.”

  “Just put the necessary document in front of them, Lord Goodman, and they will sign. And once they’ve done so, can Cyrus claim back the full amount he’s paid out to that charlatan over the years?”

  “Every red cent, plus any interest or other charges set by the court, along with my fees, of course.”

  “So your advice would be to sue the bitch?” Ellie May asked, leaning forward.

  “With one proviso,” said Goodman, raising an eyebrow.

  “Lawyers always come up with a proviso just in case they end up losing. So let’s hear it.”

  “There wouldn’t be much point in suing Lady Virginia for such a large sum if she has no assets of any real value. One newspaper,” he said, opening a thick file, “is claiming she’s withdrawing young Freddie from his prep school because she can no longer afford the fees.”

  “But she owns a house in Onslow Square, I’m reliably informed, and has half a dozen staff to run it.”

  “Had,” said Goodman. “Lady Virginia sold the house some months ago and sacked all the staff.” He opened another file and checked some press cuttings before passing them across to his client.

  Once Ellie May had finished reading them, she asked, “Does this alter your opinion?”

  “No, but to start with, I would recommend we send Lady Virginia a without prejudice letter, requesting that she pay back the full amount, and give her thirty days to respond. I find it hard to believe she won’t want to make some sort of settlement rather than be declared bankrupt and even face the possibility of being arrested for fraud.”

  “And if she doesn’t … because I have a feeling she won’t,” said Ellie May.

  “You will have to decide whether or not to issue a writ, with the strong possibility that not one penny will be recovered, in which case you will still have to pay your own legal costs, which will not be insubstantial.” Goodman paused before adding, “On balance, I would advise caution. Of course, the decision is yours. But as I have pointed out, Mrs. Grant, that could end up costing you a great deal of money, with no guarantee of any return.”

  “If that bitch ends up bankrupt, humiliated, and having to face a spell in prison, it will have been worth every penny.”

  * * *

  Harry and Emma joined Giles and Karin for a fortnight at Mulgelrie Castle, their maternal grandfather’s family home in Scotland, and whenever the phone rang, it was almost always for Emma, and when red boxes arrived, Giles had to get used to not opening them.

  Her brother was able to advise the fledgling minister on how to deal with civil servants who seemed to have forgotten she was on holiday, and political journalists who were desperate for an August story while the House wasn’t sitting. And whenever they took a stroll on the grouse moors together, Giles answered all his sister’s myriad questions, sharing with her his years of experience as a minister in the Lords, so that by the time she returned to London, Emma felt she hadn’t so much had a holiday as attended several advanced seminars on government.

  After Emma and Harry had departed, Giles and Karin stayed on for another couple of weeks. Giles had something else he needed to do before he attended the party conference in Brighton.

  * * *

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Archie.”

  “My pleasure,” said the tenth Earl of Fenwick. “I will never forget your kindness when I took my father’s seat in the House and made my maiden speech.”

  “It was very well received,” said Giles. “Even though you did attack the government.”

  “And I intend to be equally critical of the Conservatives, if their farming policy is as antiquarian as yours. But tell me, Giles, to what do I owe this honor, because you’ve never struck me as a man who has time to waste.”

  “I confess,” said Giles as Archie handed him a large glass of whisky, “that I’m a seeker after information concerning a family matter.”

  “It wouldn’t be your ex-wife Virginia you’re curious about, by any chance?”

  “Got it in one. I was rather hoping you could bring me up to date on what your sister’s been doing lately. I’ll explain why later.”

  “I only wish I could,” said Archie, “but I can’t pretend we’re that close. The only thing I know for sure is that Virginia’s penniless once again, even though I have abided by the terms of my father’s will, and continued to supply her with a monthly allowance. But it won’t be nearly enough to deal with her present problems.”

  Giles sipped his whisky. “Could one of the problems be the Hon. Freddie Fenwick?”

  Archie didn’t reply immediately. “One thing we now know for certain,” he eventually said, “is that Freddie is not Virginia’s son and, perhaps more interestingly, my father must have known that long before he left her only one bequest in his will.”

  “The bottle of Maker’s Mark,” said Giles.

  “Yes. That had me puzzled for some time,” admitted Archie, “until I had a visit from a Mrs. Ellie May Grant of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, who explained that it was her husband Cyrus’s favorite brand of whisky. She then told me in great detail what had taken place on her husband’s visit to London when he had the misfortune to encounter Virginia. But I’m still in the dark as to how she got away with it for so long.”

  “Then let me add what I know, courtesy of the Honorable Hayden Rankin, Governor of Louisiana, and an old friend of Cyrus T. Grant III. It seems that while Cyrus was on his first and last trip to London, Virginia set up an elaborate scam to convince him that he had proposed to her, despite the fact he already had plans to marry someone else—Ellie May, in fact. She then duped the foolish man into believing she was pregnant, and he was the father. That’s about everything I know.”

  “I can add a little more,” said Archie. “Mrs. Grant informed me she had recently employed Virginia’s former butler and his wife, a Mr. and Mrs. Morton, who have signed an affidavit confirming that Freddie was their child, which is the reason Virginia’s monthly payments from Cyrus suddenly dried up.”

  “No wonder she’s penniless. Is Freddie aware that the Mortons are in fact his parents?”

  “No, he’s never asked and I’ve never told him, as he clearly feels his parents abandoned him,” said Archie. “And it gets worse. Mrs. Grant has recently instructed Lord Goodman to represent her in an attempt to get back eve